"What did you see during the night?"

"Oh, sire!" said the lieutenant, "an amazing sight! Your silversmith
crept down the side of the wall like a cat; so lightly that he seemed
to be a shadow."

"I!" exclaimed Cornelius; after that one word, he remained silent, and
stood stock-still like a man who has lost the use of his limbs.

"Go away, all of you," said the king, addressing the archers, "and
tell Messieurs Conyngham, Coyctier, Bridore, and also Tristan, to
leave their rooms and come here to mine.--You have incurred the
penalty of death," he said to Cornelius, who, happily, did not hear
him. "You have ten murders on your conscience!"

Thereupon Louis XI. gave a silent laugh, and made a pause. Presently,
remarking the strange pallor on the Fleming's face, he added:--

"You need not be uneasy; you are more valuable to bleed than to kill.
You can get out of the claws of _my_ justice by payment of a good round
sum to my treasury, but if you don't build at least one chapel in
honor of the Virgin, you are likely to find things hot for you
throughout eternity."

"Twelve hundred and thirty, and eighty-seven thousand crowns, make
thirteen hundred and seventeen thousand crowns," replied Cornelius
mechanically, absorbed in his calculations. "Thirteen hundred and
seventeen thousand crowns hidden somewhere!"